


For Those Who Can Heal

by flipflop_diva



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Healing, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 15:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Shuri has figured out a way to rid Bucky of his trigger words. But that isn't the only type of recovery she and T'Challa can provide.





	For Those Who Can Heal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



“I have never had a white boy in my lab before.” That was the first thing Shuri made sure to tell him, before adding, “Don’t touch anything.”

The white boy — Bucky — looked nervous and a bit worried. He also looked beaten up. Dried blood he hadn’t bothered to wipe off was on his face. His hair was tangled. His clothes were dirty. The fingers on the normal arm kept twisting together.

Shuri eyed him up and down as he stared anxiously around her lab. “There is no need to be nervous,” she said.

He turned his head, almost as though surprised to see her standing there. She watched his eyes focus in on her, as if he were sizing her up as much as she was sizing him up. 

“How old are you?”

Yes, he was definitely nervous. She heard his voice shake slightly.

“Sixteen,” she said.

“A sixteen year old is going to … fix me?” He looked at T’Challa as he said this, like her brother suddenly had all the expertise.

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Of course I am,” she said. “I am the best.”

Bucky was still looking at T’Challa.

“She is the best,” T’Challa said. “If anyone can fix you, it is Shuri.”

Finally, Bucky turned to look at her again. “How long do you think this will take? Years?”

Shuri snorted. “Give me a few weeks.”

He looked unconvinced. “You can do this in a few weeks?”

She laughed. “When they take you out of the cryo-freeze in a few weeks, you will see.”

Bucky sighed. He still looked nervous. But now he looked resigned on top of it.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

•••

It took some time. A lot of research. A lot of studying. A lot of trial and error. It was Shuri’s favorite part of any new project — the challenge of getting it to work. In this case, removing trigger words from a boy’s brain so he wouldn’t go around killing and injuring people. 

She spent hours in her lab, buried in her microscopes, trying various things.

“Do you think you can do it?” T’Challa asked her on the third day. He had come to the lab to visit her, or so he said, but she suspected he was spying on her to report back to Bucky’s friend.

“Of course I can do it,” she told him. “Do not doubt me, Brother.”

“I am not doubting you. You know I have never done that. I am just checking.”

Shuri laughed. “Give me a few more days,” she said. “And I will have the answer for you.”

•••

They did the procedure when the boy was not fully awake. It had a better chance of working that way, Shuri said, when she could play with his brain while it was not completely functioning.

It took hours, a lot of detailed movements, a lot of checks and rechecks.

But the real test would be when he was awake.

“You think you got it, Sister?” T’Challa asked her.

“I did,” she said. “One fixed white boy for you.”

“You should not get ahead of yourself until we see the proof.”

“Oh, Brother, there you go with the doubting again.” Shuri laughed. “You should just trust.”

“I do trust. But other people need proof.”

“And proof they will get.”

They waited until Bucky was fully defrosted and awake and aware. She was not surprised in the least that he was still nervous and worried and a little skeptical when she told him he had been under for only two weeks.

“That was enough time?” he said, quite anxiously. “To fix my brain?”

“Yes,” she said.

“It was very damaged, though.”

“Not all,” she said. “Just one part. The rest was still quite good.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “I do not know how to thank you for this.”

“Well, let us check that it worked. Some people have a few doubts.” She cast a look at her brother as she said this, and T’Challa laughed.

“Not doubts,” he said. “But I am sure James would very much like proof.”

“Tie me up while you try?” Bucky said.

“We do not need to,” Shuri told him.

“I’ll feel better if you do.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Okay,” she said. “But I do not agree with this.”

In the end, it did not matter. They got Bucky set up. She let T’Challa do the honors of saying the trigger words first.

“ _Longing_ ,” he said in perfect Russian, slowly and clearly. “ _Rusted. … Furnace. … Daybreak. … Seventeen. … Benign. … Nine. … Homecoming. … One. … Freight car._ ”

They watched. Nothing happened.

No anxiety, no discomfort, no visible changes. 

“No brain wave changes,” Shuri told them, looking at the monitors. She couldn’t help the pleased note that seeped into her voice.

“Do it again please,” Bucky said. Even after all that, he seemed unconvinced. Or disbelieving.

They did it again. And again and again. Different people each time. Some reciting slower. Some faster. Some louder. Some quieter. But each time, the same result.

Absolutely nothing happened.

After the eighth time, she saw Bucky release a breath.

“Maybe we can try tomorrow?” he said. “Just in case.”

“We can try every day,” Shuri said. “If you would like.”

He looked unexpectedly grateful at that. “I really would,” he said, then after a pause, “Not every day forever, but …”

“It is okay,” Shuri said. “Sometimes good news is hard to get used to. I promise you are fine, but I do not mind checking.”

“Nor do I,” T’Challa said.

Bucky breathed out again. “I still do not know how to thank you.”

“You do not have to thank us,” T’Challa said. “It was our pleasure.”

“Very much so,” Shuri said. “It was also fun.”

“Playing with my brain was fun?”

“Ah, yes,” she said and laughed. “But do not worry. I will not be playing on anymore brains unless their owners ask me to. I promise you that.”

•••

They kept it up for a week. Every day, different people, testing out the trigger words that were now just words.

“What if there are more hidden?” Bucky asked her worriedly.

“There are not,” she said. “I promise. I fixed everything.”

She expected him to disagree, to question. Instead he just nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, probably for the millionth time.

“Are you ready for your new life?” she asked him. “T’Challa tells me he has it all set up.”

He smiled. “It sounds peaceful.”

“It will be.”

“And you will come by every day?”

She laughed. “You will regret wishing for that, I promise you.”

“I do not think so,” he said, and his eyes shone.

Shuri felt something twist inside of her, and she took his hand. She had never been friends with a person like him before, but she was as ready as he was. 

“Come, my White Wolf,” she said. “Let us go see your new home.”


End file.
